


The Savior In Disguise

by IloveSterek1995



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Background Relationships, Beta Derek, Human Isaac, Human Scott McCall, Isaac Feels, Isaac's dad is an ass, M/M, No Alpha Pack but the twins find their way to Beacon Hills, Oblivious Scott, Physical Abuse, Possible Mahealahey to happen before Scisaac happens, Scott is new in town, Teacher Derek, high school fic, very very slow build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-15 17:25:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1313161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IloveSterek1995/pseuds/IloveSterek1995
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isaac:<br/>My dad has always had anger issues, but since my brother died it's gotten worse. My life has been a living hell for the past couple years and I don't see that changing anytime soon. That is until I met someone, someone with big brown eyes and a sweet smile. I know I don't have a chance, but I can't stop myself from hoping that maybe I do.</p><p>Scott:<br/>My first day here and I meet one of the most amazing guys ever. He's tall with curly blond hair and he has the most gorgeous blue eyes I've ever seen. He probably isn't interested in guys but I'm hoping he might give me a chance. First I have to find a way to find out if he'd want me before I make my move; I don't want to lose my best friend because of some dumb crush.</p><p>(There's no Scott POV yet but there will be in the future!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I quickly run into my brother’s old room knowing my dad won’t come in here. He never does anymore; he hasn’t since we found out that Camden was killed in battle. I close the door quietly behind me, holding my breath so I can listen to him walk as he walks around downstairs. Well “walk” is generous; it’s more of a stumble and stagger. I hate when he comes home drunk… When he does I always end up in that freezer. A shudder runs through me at the thought of being put in there again. And that’s what usually happens on the **_good_** nights.

When he has a one of his bad nights I have to skip school for a couple days to recover. The worst I’ve gotten from one of his drunken rampages is a couple fractured ribs, a split lip and a mild concussion. That was only last month… But it’s my own fault. I should have done as I was told, I should have just gotten into the freezer and that wouldn’t have happened. He was right, he always has been. I’m just a screw up that never should have happened. All I do is remind him that his favorite son is gone forever and all he has left is me. I’m the one he didn’t want; the one who gets to remind him that both his wife and son are gone. Sure I’m his son too, but he only wanted on child. He didn’t want me. He had only wanted one child. But my mom insisted on trying to get a baby girl, but they got me instead. Mom was happy but dad wasn’t. He was excited; he wanted to have a little girl. I only know this because it was one of his many stories he tells me when he’s drunk and I forget to go to bed before he gets home. I wipe at my cheek when I realize that I’d started crying without meaning to. I sniffle as quietly as I can, hoping he doesn’t hear me. He hates when I cry, says it makes me look like I’m a weak cry baby who shouldn’t have come into this world. I’ve thought about it. About giving him what he wants; me gone forever. But I want to prove to him that I won’t always be the worthless person I am now.

I slowly crawl across the floor being careful of the squeaky floor boards so I can sit at the end of Camden’s bed, pulling the covers off of it so I can wrap them around me. This isn’t the first time I’ve hidden in here, but I won’t sleep in his bed; it didn’t feel right the one time I tried it. It didn’t feel right to sleep in the bed without him beside me. I didn’t do it often, only when dad would come home drunk. I would come running in and he’d already be ready for me to climb into bed with him. I wrap myself up tightly, squeezing my eyes shut as I try to pretend that I’m anywhere else but in this house with my dad. I can feel the tears rolling down my cheeks as I pretend I’m in a completely different universe. One where my father actually loved me and I was actually able to be happy, instead of only feeling fear when he comes within arm’s length of me. I pretend that he would accept me as I am and that I’d be able to tell him that I prefer to look at boys instead of girls. But I know if I ever did that I probably wouldn’t see the next day. Not that anyone would notice that I’m gone, but I’d much prefer to live alone than die altogether.

I jump when I hear my phone ring with an alarm, making me panic internally because my dad definitely heard that from downstairs; our walls are like paper barriers between the rooms. I try to fight it, the panic that is coursing through my veins, but in mere seconds my body is shaking with silent sobs as I wait for the inevitable. I had set the alarm so I knew when to go to bed to make sure I was sleeping before he got home. I didn’t expect him home so early and now the alarm I’d set to avoid being put into that freezer in the basement is the reason I’m going to be in there.

I can hear him stumbling loudly up the stairs and my sobbing becomes slightly audible. “ISAAC! GET OUT HERE NOW! YOU KNOW YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO GO IN THERE!” He’s banging on the door and I slowly stand up to carefully place the blanket back on my brother’s old bed. After the blanket is placed how it was before I took it I hesitantly make my way to the door, feet dragging against the floor as I do and I open it with my head hanging low. I may be a head and a half taller than my dad, but he’s stronger than me. I wouldn’t have a chance if I tried to fight back. He grabs me by the back of the neck and roughly leads me towards the stairs, making me stumble around aimlessly as I walk because of the way he’s pushing and tugging at my neck. The tears are still flowing as he gets us closer to the door to the basement and I fight weakly at his hold on me, even if I know it’s useless and only makes him tighten his hold on my neck. After this I know there’s going to be a bruise on my neck.

“You are weak, Isaac, you won’t get away. You’re just as useless as I always thought you would be. Your mother thought you grow up to be just like Camden, but not me. I knew you’d be a waste of space; that you’d be a waste of the money that I work hard to earn. You’ll never amount to anything; I don’t know why I waste my time and money on you. I should have given you away a long time ago.” This is his usual speech that he gives me on the way to the basement. Actually, that’s the nicer version of it.

My sobs are now audible as he opens the door to the basement, I’m now fighting a little harder but it’s no use. I’m not getting out of his hold. I’m not what he wants; I’m not the right son. It should have been me. I should have been the one that died, not Camden. I never should have let Camden leave; it’s all my fault he left. He asked me if I was okay with it and I had said that I was, only because he seemed so excited to serve his country. I shouldn’t have let him go… I’m in the middle of an apology when he stumbles too far and he loses his grip on my neck and I go flying down the stairs with cries of pain when the edge of a stair jams into my ribs. I wrap my arms around my head so I don’t get another concussion. But I can’t guarantee the rest of my body will be okay. I can feel the stairs digging into my back, arms, legs and stomach.

When I hit the bottom I just lay there, curled up in a ball with tears still rolling down my cheeks. With every sob a searing pain goes through my body from the movements. He’s probably just standing there looking at me, probably thinking that I deserve this. And I do for everything I don’t do in this house. I can feel the bruises that have already formed on my arms, legs, back and stomach and I know if I move even in the slightest I’ll be able to feel a couple of broken ribs.

“Dad… C-can you please take me to the hospital? I th-think I have some broken ribs…” I stammer out breathlessly as I try to force myself to stop crying. That’s one of the reasons my dad hates me. I’m too weak. I look over my shoulder to see him scowling down at me from the stair second from the top. I feel fear strike through me when he just turns around and slams the door closed behind him. I hear him pull the lock across the door and I collapse against the floor in defeat.  
I’m stuck in here until he decides I’m worthy enough to get out. I’ve found that being completely silent gets me out sooner than if I call out to him. At least I’m not in that godforsaken freezer. I’d much rather the pain than the confined space and darkness; I hate being in small spaces. Not that it’s much brighter out here… But it’s still better than in there. Hopefully he’ll let me out in the morning so I can go to the hospital. Another day of school missed, another assignment that I won’t hand in, which only leads to more time in the freezer… My life is basically just a never ending loop that I don’t want to be in.

I attempt to drag myself to the dingy couch by the wall opposite of the freezer and I curl myself up as best I can to get comfortable with my sore body and broken ribs from the fall to wait out my dad’s patience. He’ll let me out eventually. Hopefully it’s sooner rather than later.

* * *

 

I’m not sure how long it’s been since my dad locked me down here, all I know is that I’ve woken up and fallen asleep five times. And I’m **_starving_** ; but I learned my lesson on asking for food I don’t deserve… Last time I asked for food before he let me out, I got a knee to the stomach… I sigh sadly, which makes me wince in pain from the pressure it puts on my potentially broken ribs, and I sling an arm over my eyes to stop the tears that want to start to flow again. This was entirely my fault. If only I hadn’t had that stupid alarm on, if only I’d been sleeping like I’d planned… Then I wouldn’t be in this much pain. I’d be sleeping soundly on my bed with a full stomach. It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen the sunlight and had a drink of water. It’s probably only been like a day or two.

My arm moves quickly, hurting my ribs again, and my eyes open wide when I hear the lock slide across the door. I know he won’t come down to see if I’m okay. He doesn’t care. I listen to his steps, tracking his movements. He must be leaving for work. When I’m sure he isn’t in the house anymore I get up so I can very slowly make my way up to the main floor to _**finally**_ get something to eat. I check the stove to check what the date is. He left me down there for three and a half days. That’s a new record.

As soon as I’m done eating I go get a change of clothes and some deodorant so the people at the hospital don’t know that I’ve not showered in almost four days… After I’m ready I grab my keys and start walking in the direction of the hospital. My right arm wraps around my middle, thinking of an excuse for me to have broken ribs. It takes me about two hours to walk there and I go straight to the front desk, limping on the way there thanks to the many bruises on my body. My brows furrow when I don’t see who I was expecting, there’s a new nurse at the front desk; a woman with a friendly smile and big, warm brown eyes. She seems much nicer than the last nurse that sat in her spot.

“Oh my, are you okay? You look like you’ve been in a pretty bad fight…” Her face contorts in concern as she gets up from her chair to walk around the desk and she even helps me into a wheel chair, even though I tell her I’m okay to walk. She goes back around her desk to get a chart so I don’t have to stand while she checks me into the hospital. My eyes are on my lap as I try to explain without telling her what actually happened.

“So…” She looks down at her chart for a moment. “Isaac, care to tell me how you were hurt?” Her gaze comes back up to my face, making me feel bad that I’m about to lie to her.

“I uh, I fell down the stairs this morning when I was going to get something from out of the basement. You know, to get something from the freezer to defrost for dinner tonight… Then I walked right here to make sure nothing was too badly hurt…” I look up at her with my baby blues, knowing it’ll look like I’m telling the truth. I don’t want to lie to them; they’re all really good people who help me. But I can’t just give my dad up like that…

As soon as she hears the words ‘fell down the stairs’ her brown eyes are widen in fear and I know exactly what she’s thinking. She’s wondering if I might have broken something or if I might have a concussion. I look back down at my lap but right away she tilts my head back up to check my eyes with that annoying bright light they all have to check patients to see if they have a concussion.

I’m looking over her shoulder as she does this and that’s when I see him; a gorgeous boy who looks like he’s around my age. He’s about a head shorter than me, nicely tanned, he has a crooked jaw line that makes him look absolutely adorable and he has the most beautiful brown eyes. When I see him walking our way my stomach takes off in butterflies and I can feel the light blush that will be very obvious because I’m so annoyingly pale. I look down at my lap again which makes the nurse look over her shoulder to see if something is wrong.

“Scott… You’re supposed to be at school. Not here.” Her tone is parental which means she must be his mom. It makes sense; they have the same warm brown eyes. I look up to see him smiling at me and I swear my heart stops in my chest. I swallow a bit thickly before I force my gaze back down to my lap as I chew nervously at my lower lip.

“Sorry mom, couldn’t help coming to see you on your first day. Is this your first patient?” He looks at his mom with a grin on his lips, ignoring the annoyed look she has on her delicate features. It takes a few moments before he gives her the most convincing puppy dog eyes ever. She sighs in defeat before she nods her head to his question.

“Yes, he is. Now if you don’t mind I have to get back to work.” And she doesn’t seem surprised when he doesn’t listen. She doesn’t even seem mad about it. That’s so weird, if I did that my dad would flip on me… All she does is smile and shake her head when he takes a seat next to me. I look over at him through my lashes, a small smile on my lips as I do. He nods to his mom with a cheeky smile on his boyish features. “Go right ahead, I don’t mind.” She laughs quietly with a shake of her head.

“You need to go to school, Scott. I’m not sure how your teachers will like you missing your first day of classes.” She tries again to get him to go but he just shrugs with indifference to the subject.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow, I don’t know anyone there. It’s awkward…” He rubs at the back of his neck as he looks down at his lap.

“Fine, one day. But if you skip tomorrow you’re grounded from your X-Box.” He looks up at her with comically widened eyes with a quick nod.  
“I’ll go tomorrow, I promise.” She just rolls her eyes before they settle back onto me.

“Okay, now to find out what you hurt on that fall.” She murmurs as she reaches forward to tilt my head from side to side to check my neck. “Does this hurt? When I move your neck?” I shake my head slightly, looking up at her instead of her son. “Okay, good. Now can you tell me exactly where you’re hurting?”

I worry at my lower lip hard before my fingers point to the spot where my arm had previously been lying across my stomach and down at my right leg. She nods slowly before she motions for me to bring my leg up for her. I wince slightly as I bring my leg up, reluctantly placing it in her lap when she motions for me to do so. I didn’t want to soil her clothing but she doesn’t seem to mind. She makes me bend my knee to check if the joint is okay before she starts pressing along my shin. When she gets about half way up my shin I wince and jerk away from her hand. She rolls up the pant leg of my jeans as best she can to see what was wrong with my leg. When I look down I see a large black bruise.

“Looks as if you’ve bruised all the way to the bone, that’s usually what it means when at bruise gets this dark. Good news is that your leg isn’t broken. I’m surprised you were able to walk here with this bad of a bruise.” She’s about to roll the pant leg down when she notices the slightly yellow tinge around the bruise. “When did you say you fell?” She looks up at me with a slight frown and obvious confusion.

“I uh, I fell this morning when I was headed down to the basement…” I swallow thickly, looking down at my lap as I speak because I know I’d give it away if I was looking right at her. “Why? Is there something wrong?” I ask as my blue gaze slowly comes up to meet hers.

“Well, this very pale yellow color around your bruise tells me that it happened at least four days ago. It means that it’s in the beginning stage of healing. I never would have seen it if you weren’t so pale yourself…” Her brows are furrowed in confusion as she speaks, making me feel completely guilty for lying. “Did something else happen, Isaac? Something you aren’t telling me? Because if something happened I can call the Sheriff to talk to you about it?” I shake my head quickly, worry obvious on my features.

“N-no, nothing, I just fell down the stairs. I’m okay though right? No real damage?” I ask in a slur of worry, hoping she doesn’t call Sheriff Stilinski, then I’d be forced to tell the truth because he would know that I’m lying…

“Are you sure? Because if something did happen, you could get the person responsible to pay the medical bills. And—“

“Mom, he said no. Stop worrying okay. If he’d wanted to he would have walked to the police station and not here.” I look over at Scott with a grateful expression when he looks at me with a small smile in return.

“You look about my age; do you go to Beacon Hills High?” I blink a few times because of the fact that he’s talking directly to me, then I nod slowly with a small smile of my own. I do my best not to show how surprised I am that he’s talking to me. I’m sure he could have made better friends but for some reason he’s here talking to me instead of being at school where all the “cool” kids are.

“Cool! Maybe I could give you a ride to school tomorrow since it sounds like you don’t have a car?” His boyish features take on a hopeful air as he waits for a response. I run a hand through my messy curls, biting my lower lip before I nod again.

“Yeah, sure. It would be a lot better than walking to school.” A shy smile comes across my lips as I look down at my lap.

“Great! It’ll be nice to know someone there.” His hopeful air becomes excited and there’s a grin on his lips again. It makes my stomach go wild because he’s happy to spend time with me. A screw up…

“Okay.” The nurse says as she walks back towards us, I hadn’t even noticed she had gotten up… “We’ll get you into a room so I can take a look at your ribs before you’re good to go.” I nod slowly as I stand up with a light wince. “And Scott, you have to stay out here.” He looks up at her with the cutest pout I’ve ever seen.

“Awe, c’mon mom. Let me support my new friend?” She shakes her head right away. “Sorry, Scott. You’re not allowed in the patient’s room.” His pout only becomes more adorable when he adds his puppy dog eyes. This is when I force myself to look away again. If he or someone else catches me staring they could jump to conclusions that I don’t want anyone jumping to.

“I… I wouldn’t mind if he came in the room if he really wants to..” She gives me a skeptical look before she sighs once again in defeat and nods before she motions for us to follow her. He once again break into a delighted grin as we follow behind her. Unfortunately I’m having a bit of troubles and falling a bit behind.  
“Here, I’ll help.” Is all I hear before I feel a strong, warm arm wrapped around my waist. My heart once again stops in my chest and my butterflies go crazy as I lean into him, giving him another grateful smile.

“Thank you…” I murmur quietly as we continue to walk, but now a bit faster.

And this is how I met the boy who would become my first real friend.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Told you there would be more :p let me know what you think? Thank you for reading!!

“So, you have some broken ribs that I’m going to have to tape up and I’ll give you a lotion that will help with the bruises.” The doctor explains, his gaze on his chart and his tone soundsalmost bored. But I know he isn’t; he looks exhausted. I wonder how long he’s been here; he’s always the one that I see when I come in and it’s never at the same time of day. I wonder if he’s picked up where I’m getting all these injuries; I know he knows they aren’t from lacrosse, the season doesn’t start for another week and I don’t play any other sports.

“Your ribs will hurt for a few weeks, okay? That is normal so don’t worry if they don’t get better as fast as last time. They were only fractured last time. And when you sleep, try not to sleep on your side or stomach. I know that seems like an odd suggestion, but a lot of people think that it hurts less to sleep like that. It only makes it worse.”

 

               I just sit here as he rambles on about different suggestions and things I’m not allowed to do anymore. I kind of zone out after beingtold that I need to be more careful; all I can think about is Scott. He came here to see his mom but spent his time talking to me. I tried to talk back to him but I just couldn’tchance him noticing that I’m attracted to him. I probably came off as an ass. Hopefully he still picks me up tomorrow; I don’t think I could walk to school with these injuries and I wanted to see him again.

I wait as the doctor drones on and begins asking how things are at home with my dad and with my schooling. I answer politely to any questions he asks me and act as if I’m listening; but I’ve heard these speeches before and I’ve answered these questions plenty of times. I smile before I get up to limp out of the hospital. I’m going to have to wait until I get home to walk with crutches. Another of the doctor’s recommendations, even though they’ll hurt my ribs… I don’t know how that’s supposed to work. I probably won’t use them because then everyone will ask what’s wrong with me and it would kill my ribs.

 

               I’m actually surprised he didn’t recommend that I get a wheel chair with how bad my injuries are; but I don’t think I could use one of those either… It would hurt to push the wheels to get myself to move. I guess I have a new worst case scenario I have to avoid letting happen again. I clench my jaw tightly to hold in a sound of agony when I accidentally stumble on the crack in the sidewalk. I contemplate on whether or not I should go to school and I decide against it; at least for today. The teachers won’t miss me, they’re used to me missing class, and it’s not like I have any friends that could be worried about me; I don’t have any.

* * *

 

               When I finally get home I go straight to my room to get some sleep. Even with all the sleep I’d gotten downstairs I somehow found myself exhausted from the walk. It seemed like it took longer to get home than it had to get to the hospital. I lay down in the most comfortable position I can, and I'm still in pain. I force myself to relax to try and get some much needed rest. But I can't sleep, all I can think about is "What if he gets home when you're sleeping and gets mad because you aren't at school? Then you'll end up back in that freezer." I really hate the little voices in my head, but they're right. If he comes home and finds me in my bed instead of at the school I'll end up in the basement again. I can't have that.

 

             I slowly, and painfully, sit myself up from my bed to pad quietly across the hall into my brother's room. It's not the best plan since my dad found me last time, but I need to sleep. So I grab the blanket off of his bed and I curl in the same spot and position I had that night and in the comfort of his blanket I gradually doze off into a restless sleep.

* * *

            “What’s your problem, little bro? Can’t take him on? You should be able to take him easily; you’re almost twice his size! Unless you’re just as weak as he says you are. Then maybe you should just give up. You know it should have been me, right? The one who got to live and stay with dad. I would take care of him; I would make sure he didn’t go on his drunken escapades. And what do you do? Lay in bed and cry; how pathetic.” I’m sitting on my bed, slouched in on myself to hide the tears streaming down my face at my brother’s harsh but true words. I should just stop him; make it so he can’t hurt me anymore. But instead I just lie around and wait for the inevitable; the freezer that is covered in scratches from me trying to get out.

 

            “Look at me, Isaac!” His voice is so loud that it tells me that he’s crouched right in front of me, waiting for me to look at him so he can make fun of how weak I am because I’m crying over some stupid words. My shoulders shake in a silent sob and I’m surprised when the movement doesn’t hurt my ribs. I take a shaky breath before I tilt my head up so Camden can see my tear streaked cheeks. I almost scream out in fear when I only see about three quarters of my brother’s face. And the parts of his face that are there have small puncture wounds from the bomb that caused the explosion he’d died in.

 

            I scramble back on the bed, tear filled orbs becoming wide in fear as he approaches me with a gurgling laugh and a look of absolute fury in his… eye… that sends chills down my spine and makes fear course through my body and I feel frozen in place. “C-Camden… Wh-What are you doing..?” My voice is weak and shaky seeing as I’m still crying and I can’t seem to get myself under control.

 

            “Listen to you, god you’re so pathetic, Isaac. How is it that **_I_** died and **_you_** get to live? It’s a joke. All you do is cry and act like the world tortures you when it’s your own fault. I should be alive right now. I should be the one sleeping in my room. **_Not you!”_** He yells the last two words, sounding more like a roaring voice than a yell, in a way that makes me scramble back just enough for me to fall off the bed and bang my head on the wall.

 

            “S-stop Camden… You don’t mean that. I know you don’t…” I whimper out sadly when his hand strikes me across the cheek to leave a deep red mark there and then he strikes over my eye and I cry out in pain and I just know that both blows will become bruises.

 

            I curl up in a ball to protect my face from any more hits as the tears continue to fall down my cheeks with silent sobs shaking my shoulders. I peak out to see what he’s doing, only to be struck again. And this time it makes me pass out.

 

* * *

            I jolt upright with sweat glistening over my pale white skin, baby blues wide in fear as I look around to see if Camden was really back or if it was all just a dream. When I don’t see him I get up and groan out in pain as I move too quickly for my ribs and leg to handle. It hadn’t hurt a second ago when I jolted up, maybe it was just the shock from the dream that numbed the pain momentarily…

 

            I make my way to the bathroom as quickly as I can to see if my face is still unmarked. Well… To see if it had any **_new_** marks. When I don’t see any new marks I sigh in relief before the tears start flowing freely. Everything Camden said in my dream wasall the things my dad said to me before I was thrown down the stairs. I slowly strip off my clothes to be careful of my ribs and I turn on the hot water for me to stand under.

 

            I stand under the waterfor about a half an hour before I think I’m ready enough to face the world. Not that I’m ready, just that I’ve finally stopped crying. I let out a deep sigh as I turn off the water and grab the towel from the hook on the wall. I dry myself off completely before I get out with the towel wrapped around my waist. I make my way back to my room to get a change of clothes and dress as quickly as I can.

            When I look at the clock after I’m finished getting ready it’s almost twenty after eight in the morning. If I don’t hurry I’m going to be late to school… I grab my book bag and I carefully sling it over my shoulder; normally I’m not this careful with injuries but I don’t want this one to last longer than it has to.

I’m just locking up the door when I hear a car pull into the drive way. I swallow hard, feeling a panic starting rise in me when I think it’s my dad coming to get something he forgot. I practically jump out of my skin when I hear the horn honk and I turn to see Scott looking at me expectantly. My entire body relaxes as relief courses through my veins with an audible sigh.

I walk down the three steps to our drive way and I get into the passenger seat with a small smile in his direction before I look down at my lap to hide the fear that I’m still trying to get out of my system.

“Hey, are you okay Isaac?” I can hear the genuine concern in his voice when he speaks to me, making my heart stutter in my chest that someone like him, attractive and sweet, could actually care about someone like me, a weak fuck up who ruins everything in my dad’s life.

“Yeah, I’m good. Had a late night.” I nod a couple times as I look over at him with the ghost of a smile on my lips; hoping he’ll just let it go for now.

“Okay…” He sounds skeptical as he puts the car in reverse and a sigh of relief escapes my lips. He looks around before he backs out of the drive way.

* * *

It takes us not even ten minutes to get to school which means we still have another ten ‘till the bell rings. I’m surprised when Scott doesn’t go his own way to find his locker, if he has one that is. I sneak a few glances over at him to see him looking down at his schedule with the most adorable, confused expression I’ve ever seen.

“Is everything okay? Or do you want some help finding your classes?” I ask in attempt to ease some of the nervousness he must be feeling from being in his first full day of classes. “I can help you find the last two classes if you need me to?”

“Honestly? I need help with all four… I kind of didn’t come yesterday?” He chews nervously at his lower lip as he glances up at me. “I slept in and I didn’t want to be late to my first day of classes; so I went to see my mom instead.”

“Oh, well in that case…” A light chuckle slips past my lips as I hold my hand out for his schedule. “I can help you find all your classes if you want me to.” I look down at the paper, ignoring the fact that our fingers brushed against each other because of how he’d folded the paper so you could only see the four class names. I mentally compare our schedules together and find that we have three out of the four classes together.

“Good news; we have most of our classes together. So after lunch when I’m in Math, you’ll be in P.E. I can show you where the locker rooms are before I go, if you’d like?” My gaze rises from the paper to meet his with a questioning look, wondering if he’ll accept my offer or if he’ll decide that one of the many girls looking at him would do a better job.

“Really?” His nervous smile becomes a grateful grin. “Great, that would be great.” I hand him back his paper when I realize I’m standing in front of my locker but I haven’t taken anything out of it. I unlock it quickly to take out the books I need and I replace them with the books that I’d taken home last time I was here.

“You know, I’m glad I met you yesterday; even if it wasn’t in good conditions.” He looks at me with an apologetic grimace but I just shake my head with a small smile. “I mean, I know I would have seen you here but I don’t think we would have talked. Would we?” He looks over at me with a questioning look in his chocolate hues.

“Why are you asking me..? It would have been up to you.” I nod slowly before I look away. I never would have talked to him on my own; he would have had to start the conversation because I’d be too shy or nervous to do so. And with all the other _better_ people for him to converse with, we probably wouldn’t have talked. But I can’t tell him that.

“I’m sure we would have then; you look like a nice guy who needs a friend. Speaking of friends, do you have your own group of friends?” And there it is again, his genuine curiosity that makes me want to tell him anything and everything he asks me.

“I uh… No, I don’t… Just me.” I look down with an awkward shrug and a faint smile on my lips as I try to play it off as if it’s okay.

“Oh, I’m sorry. _Well…_ Technically it isn’t just you anymore.” I look over at him with my eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he gets the question I’m asking, answering with a gorgeous grin on his face that lights his beautiful eyes up. “You have me now.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week jump from last chapter. Isaac gets a checkup to see if he can participate in lacrosse and Scott and Isaac make a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took forever. I had it all written out once but I realized the chapter wasn't that good because of my amazing beta so I rewrote it. So this is it :) Hope you like it!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, sorry for the weird spacing, I don't know what happened there.

“Thanks for the ride; I’ll let you know how it goes.” I get out of the car with a smile in Scott’s direction before I start making my way inside for the checkup on my ribs. It’s only been a week and a half since the “fall” but I’m hoping that I’ve taken care of myself well enough so I can go to tryouts. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t; it was my way of keeping out of the house and being productive.

 

I’m chewing nervously at my lip when I’m met with a sympathetic smile and warm brown eyes that are identical to the ones I just left. “Hey, Ms. McCall.” The words come out in a timid manner. She’s a nice woman and all, but she’s still new; it’ll take some time getting used to talking to her.

 

“Hello, Isaac. Here for a checkup on your ribs?” Her gaze drops to where she knows there’s tape going around my torso to keep me upright; it’s uncomfortable but it’s the best way to give the ribs healing space. I nod slowly instead of responding aloud and I’m relieved when she doesn’t ask any other questions as she leads me to an empty room with a “bed” covered in a thin paper.

 

“Hop up and I’ll go tell Dr. Deaton you’re here.” I do as I’m told as quickly as I can, wondering who Dr. Deaton is and where my regular doctor might be. My fingers are fiddling with the hem of my shirt when a dark skinned man walks through the door. He has short black hair, curious brown eyes and a small smile quirked on his lips as he takes in his new patient.

 

“Hello, Isaac, I am Allan Deaton. I’ll be taking over for Dr. McGraw from now on.” His voice is smooth and low as he speaks, as if he thinks that I’ll run scared if he speaks louder. And before I can ask, he’s answering the question I thought of as soon as Ms. McCall mentioned him. “Dr. McGraw has decided on an early retirement to spend time with his family. Everyone could see that he needed to relax more, always being on the job and all.”

 

“So… You’ll be doing my checkups from now on?” And now I understand why he’d been talking soothingly; if my voice sounded shaky I can’t imagine what look I must be giving him. My fist rests on my lips as I clear my throat and I drop it as soon as I’ve finished. “Sorry… I’m just… Not good with new people.” My gaze drops to my lap but before they do I catch sight of a sympathetic smile.

 

“It’s okay, Isaac, I’m here to help; not make things worse.” At those simple words my head snaps up and my eyes are wide in fear that he knows exactly where these injuries came from, even if this is our first meeting. But there’s no way he could know, I mean, not even Dr. McGraw knew what was going on; if he had he would’ve had to tell someone.

 

“I, uh, I understand. Not everyone works ‘till the day they die.” A breathy chuckle comes from me, attempting for a casual joke but sounding more nervous than anything else.

 

“Okay, so, mind if I have a look at your ribs?” After I give a hesitant nod he inches forward, giving one more look at my chart before he sets it aside and motions for me to lift my shirt. I have to take a slow breath before I lift my shirt for him to get to my ribs. I don’t know what has me so nervous, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy; but for some reason it irks me when he starts to unravel the tape that’s wrapped delicately around my torso.

 

My gaze never leaves his thoughtful expression as he observes my still lightly bruised skin. I swallow nervously when his fingers start prodding gently at where my injured ribs are, making me wince no matter how hard I tried not to.

 

“Okay, so it seems they’re not healing as quickly as Dr. McGraw thought they would. I have to recommend you to wait another two weeks before you try doing anything as active and hands-on as lacrosse.” This is exactly what I feared was going to happen and the disappointment must be written all over my face because seconds later he’s apologizing. “Come back to me in a week for another checkup, but I can’t promise that it’ll be long enough that you’ll be able to play again.”

 

“I understand, doctor. It’s just… I don’t know if Coach will let me join in late. I’ll probably be stuck on the bench for the season.” A sad smile forms on my lips, masking the slight anger I feel towards my father for doing this to me.

 

“I do sincerely apologize for being the bearer of bad news; I wish you all the best with your Coach. And if there’s anything we can do to help with the situation let us know and we’ll do our best to do so.” I nod my head as he speaks, having heard a different version of it from Dr. McGraw.

 

“Thank you, I’ll let you know what the coach says and I’ll be back next week for the checkup.” He nods once in my direction before he asks Ms. McCall to rewrap my ribs for me.

 

“Remind Scott that he should be in _**school**_ right now, will you? Not that I oppose to his support for you, I just think he should concentrate better on his studies since he missed so much when we moved.” A soft smile forms as I nod again.

 

“Sure, no problem Ms. McCall; I’ll tell him when he comes to pick me up.” A quiet laugh escapes at her eye roll.

 

“Just… Help him with his English? If you can I mean, it’s his worst subject and missing so much school can’t be helping him in that aspect.” I pull my shirt back on after she’s finished.

 

“Don’t worry; English is one of my few strong points, I’ll help him.” My lips quirk up in an awkward smile before I walk out of the room to meet her son at the front doors, wishing I wasn’t such a screw up; if I wasn’t my dad never would’ve thrown me down the stairs and I’d be able to play tomorrow.

 

“Hey, bud!” I’m met with a cheerful grin that fades when Scott catches sight of my disappointment. “So you can’t play? That sucks…” A genuine frown takes over his normally lively features. I shrug a shoulder, half of my mouth tugging upward in a crooked smile.

 

“There’s always next season, unless Coach will make an exception. And knowing Coach it isn’t very likely.” I give a careless shrug before I get into the passenger seat. “Oh, and your mom said that you need to stop being my chauffeur and concentrate better on your studies.” This gets a laugh out of him and it brings a smile to my lips. “Also, meet your new English tutor. She asked if I could help you out as well as pass on a message for her, your mom is so high maintenance.” I find myself laughing along with him by the time I finish speaking.

 

“So she’s already using my only friend for her needs? Geez, I’ll have a serious talking to with her about this.” His tone is playful as he nudges my arm with his elbow, winking at me before he pulls out of the parking lot to head back to the school.

 

* * *

 

It takes us less than fifteen minutes to get back and just in time for English. It makes the smile return to my lip as we walk through the door. I ignore the looks we get from the other students because we walked in almost five minutes late, having had to stop at our lockers before we came here.

 

“Thanks for coming boys, take your seats and I’ll get you the assignment.” Mr. Hale’s tone is a bit sarcastic at the beginning and when I look around the only seats left are the ones beside and in front of Stiles Stilinski. Scott and I share a look before we take our seats, each giving Stiles the best smile we can muster up. It’s not that we don’t like him; it’s just that we don’t know him yet. All I know about him is that he’s a spastic smart ass who flails his arms everywhere when he gets startled.

 

Not long after we sit down Mr. Hale brings us the handout with the criteria for the new project; which we need a group of three to do. “Since you boys are here now, Mr. Stilinski has a group to work with.” Scott and I share a look before we glance at Stiles at the same time. It makes a smirk form on my lips when he rubs at his neck in an awkward motion before I turn my attention back to the handout on my desk.

 

“Okay, now that we’re all on track, this assignment will be due in two weeks. No late projects will be accepted unless the arrangement is made with me in advance. Understand?” A collective, bored “Yes, Mr. Hale” comes from the whole class before he lets us divide into our groups so we can decide how we’re going to get this project done and who is going to do what.

 

“ _ **So**_ … Have you guys read 1984 before? Because if you haven’t I can help you understand it. You know, because I have. And if you have that’s cool too, just means less work for me. Not that--”

 

“I’ve barely started reading the assignment never mind the book we need to complete it.” Is the automatic response that comes before I can stop myself, feeling a bit guilty when I see how put out Stiles looks at the snapped words; we may not be friends but I don't want to be an ass to him. “Sorry.” The apology is a quiet mumble, hoping he heard it because I don't feel like repeating myself.

 

“It's all good, no harm done. I promise.” Stiles gives me a reassuring smile before he ducks his head to look down at the assignment handout. My eyes drift over to where Scott is sitting, finding him looking at me already. I look away right away after a small smile flashes in his direction.

 

We don't get much more discussion in after my snap at Stiles, Scott not knowing what to say stays silent next to us. All we talked about was when we'll meet to get some work done. It takes a bit of arguing but eventually we settle on the Saturday coming up; no one had plans for that night but Stiles said he doesn't want to waste away the perfect gaming night. His reasoning makes Scott laugh and I just roll my eyes with an amused smirk fighting its way onto my lips.

 

“If we get enough work done _**maybe**_ we can play some video games.” I find myself teasing Stiles before I even know what I'm doing, completely confused by the sudden change in my tone; I'm not the only one confused by it if the look on Scott's expression is anything to go by.

 

“I'm sure we will. After all, you guys have me.” Stiles says in an obviously false confidence everyone knows he doesn't have. “We'll probably have this done by the end of the week, we won't need the whole two weeks to get it done.”

 

“Alright, see you on Saturday.” I nod in Stiles' direction before I sling my bag over my shoulder and head to my next class with Scott at my side.

* * *

 

The rest of the day goes by about the same way, without a problem. At least it does until I walk into the house to find my father drunk and throwing furniture around in the living room. My pulse spikes as the fear is already twisting in my gut and it only gets worse when his gaze lands on me.

 

“Where th'ell 'ave you been?” His drunken words are yelled in my face as he staggers towards me, an angered scowl on his already worn features.

 

“I-I just got home from school... It just let out fifteen minutes ago.” Even with how my demeanour says I'm not scared, my voice is shaky as hell and it's taking all the self-control I have not to turn and run from this God forsaken house. I know I should run, but I can't bring myself to do it, instead I just take the smack to the face that has me sprawled on the floor at my father's feet. A whimper escapes me when his foot makes contact with my already hurt ribs, making me curl into myself in attempt to keep him from breaking them again.

 

“D-dad, please...” My plea comes out in a pitiful whine as his foot makes contact with my jaw this time.

 

“SHUT UP! You annoying little _**shit**_! You're such a waste of space!” His hands grip the collar of my shirt to drag me as best he can towards the basement door. Now I'm fighting; there's no way I'm going back into that freezer. My arms and legs are flailing around as I try to pull out of the vice grip he has on my arm. It surprises me at how well he's keeping me in place for someone as drunk as he is. “You're not going _**anywhere**_. You don't deserve to go anywhere, all you deserve is to be hidden from the world. You're worthless, all you do is waste my time and money! If it weren't for you, she'd still be here! SHE'D STILL BE ALIVE! IT WAS YOUR FAULT!”

 

Tears are flowing freely down my cheeks at those words that are being yelled in my face, knowing he's referring to my mother. “IT WASN'T MY FAULT! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO HER!” My attempts at yelling back come out loudly enough, but it still sounds like a pitiful whine. Eventually I just stop fighting, there's no use. I'll end up down there one way or another. It seems he's learned that throwing me down the stairs is a lot quicker than trying to walk the whole way down with my shirt in hand. Hauling me up from the ground, he fights for his drunken balance before he throws me down the stairs as pained cries are coming from me the entire fall down. When I finally come to a stop at the bottom I become a heap of skin and bones. I don't move because I know the injuries are much worse this time because he physically threw me instead of accidentally sending me down the stairs.

 

It's been approximately ten hours since I was thrown down the stairs, waiting for my dad to let up and open the doors. I know he will eventually, he has to. Because now someone will notice when I don't show up, someone will care. Knowing that is what keeps me from completely breaking down. When I hear the deadbolt unlock my eyes snap open, looking up at the door with a deep frown. I won't be able to make it all the way back upstairs on my own again, I definitely have a broken leg this time.

 

It kills me to do this, but my hand searches my pockets and I pull up the number of the only person who will come help me. It rings three times before his voice comes groggily from the other end.

 

“Isaac? Do you have any idea what time it is?” The sound of his morning voice makes a small smile surface in spite of everything that's wrong right now.

 

“I'm sorry Scott, I wouldn't call unless I absolutely had to...” Hesitance makes itself known in my voice when I speak again. “Could you come over..? I sort of fell down the stairs again and I can't get up on my own, I think I broke my leg...” By the end I'm whispering to hide the emotions that I'm feeling. The worst is the guilt I feel for lying to him; he's my best friend and I can't even tell him what's going on.

 

“Shit, yeah, no problem. I'll be right there.” Shuffling sounds can be heard as well as the jingling of keys before the slamming of a door. “Okay, getting in my car now, I'll be there in like not even five minutes.” He promises before he disconnects and only now do I look to see that it's one thirty in the morning. My guilt only magnifies for having called him so early and having lied to him.

 

He's right, it's been four minutes since I called when I hear him sneaking in through the back door. I don't know how he knew but he must have checked the front door first. “Isaac?” My name is whispered a few more times before I'm able to whisper back without the fear that my dad might hear.

 

“Down here, Scott.” Two seconds later he's looking down at me from the top step.

 

“Oh my god! Isaac, are you okay? I mean, of course you're not... I'm sorry for asking.” He rushes down the stairs as quietly as he can so he doesn't wake my dad back up. “Okay, can you sit up on your own? Is anything other than your leg hurt?” He sounds so worried, it makes my chest flutter for some reason.

 

“Uhm... Well, my ribs took some hits and I think I hit my head pretty hard, I have a pretty bad headache.” His eyes widen at that, worry completely obvious in them. “Don't worry, I made sure to keep myself awake until I was coherent enough to call you.”

 

“How long exactly did that take, Isaac? How long have you been laying here?” He sounds a bit angry and I almost flinch away when he takes a step closer. The action has something flickering in his eyes that seems almost like realization. “You didn't fall, did you? This wasn't as much of an accident as you want me to think it is.”

 

The fear is back in an instant when I realize that he's referring to someone pushing me down the stairs. _He_ _can't_ _have_ _figured_ _it_ _out_ _already_ , _there's_ _absolutely_ **_no_** _way_ _he_ _could_ _have_.

 

“What are you talking about? I fell down the stairs a couple of hours ago, but my dad was drunk so he didn't hear it.” But there's no doubt in his eyes and that might not be a good thing, he might tell someone.

 

“No you didn't, if you had you wouldn't be on your back. You'd be on your side or stomach.” There's a bit of anguish in his tone as he crouches in front of me. “I can't believe I didn't see it... I didn't notice until you flinched like you thought I was going to hit you... But it was your dad wasn't? The reason you had broken ribs when we first met and why you're laying here with a broken leg.”

 

Again, a statement and not a question. There's no way I'm going to convince him of anything else now. My eyes fall shut in what I hope is a way to confirm what he thinks without having to confirm it out loud. It seems to do the trick because seconds later he's laying beside me, being careful of my ribs when he tries to give me a hug.

 

“So.. I guess you're definitely not trying out for the team this year...” I can't help the small smile that forms in his attempt to lighten the mood despite what he now knows about my life, about why I'm always bruised up since he met me at the hospital that day almost two weeks ago.

 

“I guess not, but you still can. Okay? Play for the both of us.” It kind of scares me that I've gotten so close to someone in such a short time span, close enough that he found out what I've hidden from everyone else so easily.

 

“Okay, okay. Enough hugging, time to get you to the hospital.” Scott gets up carefully, wrapping an arm around my waist as the other holds my arm around his neck. A groan of agony slips out despite my best attempts to keep it at bay. The strain in my muscles is too much and it doesn't help that I can't use one of my legs.

 

It takes us almost an hour just to get up the stairs and another to get me out of the house, into his car and into the hospital. It takes a while, but we make it. His mom is surprised to find her son here at this hour, she also seems a bit angry.

 

“Scott? What are you doing up at this time? You have school in the morning.” Her normally calm features have taken a motherly anger that's more worry than actual anger. But it dissipates as soon as she takes in how bad I look and turns into genuine concern that rivals Scott's. “What happened to you?”

 

“I fell down the--”

 

“Isaac.. Tell her the--”

 

“I am, I fell down the stairs.” I look at Scott to see a very displeased look in his eyes that tugs at my heart and makes me want to spill everything I know to try and get rid of it.

 

“Tell her _**why**_ you fell down the stairs.” He pleads, I know he won't tell her. But I do know he wants me to. I can't though, no matter how fucked up it is. He's my father, he doesn't mean it. _Then_ _why_ _does_ _he_ _do_ _it? If he didn't mean it, he wouldn't do it._

 

I ignore the voice in my head, looking at Ms. McCall with a strained smile. “I wasn't paying attention and I tripped over something that got left on the steps. I think I broke my leg.” It's only after I say that that Ms. McCall looks down at my leg and the way her son is holding me up.

 

“Oh my... Sorry, I'll go grab you a wheel chair.” She disappears before I can protest, but it's probably for the best; Scott has got to be getting tired by now. She's gone for less than a minute before she's wheeling back a deep blue wheel chair for me to sit in.

 

“Thank you, Ms. McCall.” I murmur, wincing slightly when they ease me into the chair.

 

“It's not a problem sweetheart, Scott, would you mind wheeling Isaac down to room 5?” Scott agrees almost immediately, glad his mom is letting him stay. And I know why...

 

“Why didn't you tell her?” He asks almost as soon as the door closes behind us. “She could help you, Isaac. She could make the constant pain that you're in stop, you just have to trust her.” He says that like it's the easiest thing in the world to do.

 

“Trusting people isn't something I do, Scott. Not that I don't want to, I just can't. You're the first person I've trusted for a long time.”

 

“Then trust me enough to know that I wouldn't put you in a place where I think you'd get hurt.” He pleads again, making me want to do anything I can to make him happy. He doesn't know the effect he's having on me and I want to keep it that way, so instead of speaking I shake my head.

 

“I just can't Scott...” With how broken my voice sounded, it must be enough to make him back off, because that's exactly what he does. It takes a moment of him observing my face but eventually he just nods and sits back in the extra chair.

 

“Fine, just let me know when you're ready and I'll set something up for you to talk to her. Okay?” With how hopeful he sounds all I can do is nod my head, even if I don't plan on going through with it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edits: Put a line between the two different parts of the chapter and fixed some spelling/grammar errors.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will have more than one chapter, I clicked the wrong thing so it shows that it will only have one. I assure it'll have more.


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